


Top Secret

by reiflection



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Probably lots of oocness I am sorry, more characters soon, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-04-25 02:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14368872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiflection/pseuds/reiflection
Summary: After being kicked out of his house in his third year of college, Thomas makes a living off of working as an assassin for an infamous spy agency known as the Glade alongside his two best friends Teresa and Minho. He meets a blond man that goes by the name Newt and instantly falls in love. However, everything changes when one of the targets he’s supposed to assassinate ends up being the blond he fell in love with that night.





	1. Prologue

Thomas isn’t entirely sure how he entered this profession. It was all Minho and Teresa’s idea. Having been kicked out of his home in his third year of college, he needed to think of a way to get money fast. So, he decided to trust his two best friends and the next thing he knew, he was working alongside them for an infamous spy agency known as the Glade. 

At first, Thomas was a bit taken aback that they would keep such a big secret hidden from him, since they never kept anything between the three of them (as Teresa likes to call it, the “transparency pact”), but it quickly melted into gratitude for the two of them for giving him a job opportunity that paid well. He really didn’t know what to expect, but once he finished the vigorous training program, his life became a lot more different than he expected for a student in college. He was taught how to be stealthy, the newest advances in technology, how to hack, and most importantly, how to kill. Thomas had a natural aptitude to do so, which he found concerning, but because of it, he was allowed to go out on top secret assassination missions with a high pay. 

“Target acquired.” He said through the earpiece in his left ear, the winter chill nipping at his exposed ears as he sat crouched on a tall building near his target, looking through the scope on his sniper rifle. It took weeks for the brunet to acquire enough information about him to pinpoint his location at this exact moment, but the amount they were paying him was more than he's ever been paid for a mission before. Janson. The assistant director of their rival agency Wicked. He was the mastermind behind all of their technological advances in their weapons division. If Thomas could get rid of him on this mission today, then it would disrupt the entire production line of weapons, leaving their spies and soldiers unarmed and causing a slight delay in whatever Wicked had up their sleeve. 

"Hold on." On the other end of the line, he heard the rhythmic clicking of keys as Teresa typed away. Thomas suspected she was hacking into the surveillance cameras nearby. 

"He's surrounded by three body guards in a triangle formation with him standing right in the middle. They seemed to be armed, but not with regular guns..." She trails off. He hears the clicking of her keyboard once more. 

"They aren't armed with regular guns, but the ones that'll electrocute you if you get shot with them," Wicked had a notorious streak for capturing its enemies. What happens to those who have was beyond Thomas' imagination and the database the Glade had to offer. "I would be careful, Tom." 

Thomas smiled at her concern. "Thanks Teresa, I will." He enjoyed working with Teresa when he carries out his missions. She takes it more seriously than someone else he could name (his name starts with M and ends with inho), working with precision and efficiency, hacking into surveillance cameras or electronic doors without fail. If need be, she's also trained in combat, making her a double threat to her coworkers as she also has the potential to be sent out on recon. 

Thomas hears the line on the other end of his ear piece deafen, signalling that Teresa tuned out. It was time for him to get to work. He smiled to himself. For someone with such a high position at Wicked, he was guarded so much less than others he's assassinated in the past. This was an easy target to him. 

He continued to look through his scope at the man, who was currently greeting someone that stepped out of a limousine that just pulled into their meeting place. A chic five-star hotel Thomas couldn't remember the name of, not that it mattered anyways. They exchanged quick pleasantries and Janson allowed the woman to get into the small guarded triangle with him. She was almost as tall as him, wearing a white pan-suit and her blonde hair fastened in an intricate bun upon her head. They turned around to enter the building together and the opportunity for Thomas to shoot was perfect. Almost as if it were given to him from the heavens itself. He aligned his crosshairs with Janson's head and with that, pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas meets Newt.

"Nice shot, Thomas." Minho punched him in the arm and smiled at him. He was currently sitting at a table in the common room, filling out his report over a cup of hot chocolate to thaw himself out after sitting in the cold for what seemed like hours. It was supposed to be spring soon, yet Thomas couldn't fathom why it was so cold outside. 

"Thanks Minho," he graciously accepted the compliment and took a sip of his hot chocolate, warming his entire being instantly. "For some reason, he was a lot easier to shoot than others." A feeling of unsettlement brewed within him. Something didn't seem right to Thomas about one of the most important people to Wicked only being surrounded by three guards. 

"Nah man, you got him because you were awesome. Serves Wicked right only protecting their most precious people with three bodyguards. They might need a whole army to stop you and your monstrous aim." Thomas chuckled. He wasn't used to getting compliments, despite receiving them all the time after he successfully completes a mission from the Asian man sitting beside him, but it felt good to receive them.

"Hey, since you've been doing so well here lately, how about we go into town and hit up a few places to celebrate your success?" Thomas wasn't much of a drinker or even a partier, but he enjoyed his alcohol on occasion and could let lose to party. He's only been there for two months and in his opinion, it wasn't much worth celebrating especially when his first month was mainly training. 

"Sorry, I can't tonight I got an early class tomorrow and then gotta shift at the coffee shop afterwards. I really wish I could, Min." He apologized. He preferred not to go into class with a hangover, especially if he had to work at the coffee shop later in the day. It was a shop directly affiliated with the Glade and was treated as a special meet up place for clients and important personnel. Thomas had to keep a sharp eye for those who dropped specific code-words as they ordered something meaning that Thomas had to get a good night's rest beforehand. 

"C'mon, at least one club? We'll have you home before 12am! Teresa's comin' with us too!" The Asian tried to convince him. Thomas knew what his angle was. He wanted people to go out with him to mingle. Letting out an exasperated sigh at the conclusion he's come to from the hint of slight desperation in his friend's voice, he looked at his watch that read 9:50pm and shrugged. 

"... Okay," Thomas hesitated. "You promise?" 

"Promise!" Minho replied. He stood up abruptly and put his hands in his jacket pockets, fiddling with the keys inside of one of them. "I'll drive." 

"Okay, I'll be out in five." Thomas chugged his now cool cup of hot chocolate while scrambling to finish his half-written report about his successful mission. He should have told Minho he would be out in ten. He sighed at his own fault for once again underestimating the time it takes to write one. 

Ten minutes later, he finished the report, put his empty mug in the sink, grabbed his coat, and left the Glade's headquarters to the underground parking lot where his friend always parked his car. 

-

"Five minutes my ass." Minho muttered as he turned the key to start up his car, Thomas in the seat behind him and Teresa sitting in shotgun (she called it before he even got there, which he found slightly unfair). 

After listening to Minho's playlist which was only composed of one song on repeat the whole time (he could listen to Eye of the Tiger for days), they finally arrived at their destination. A club known as the Safe Haven. Its rambunctious nightly parties and street cred were phenomenal, making it the best spot to hang out with friends at. It made every party goer there feel as if they could forget their daily struggles for just a little bit so they could kick back and relax. It truly felt like paradise. And Thomas didn't mind experiencing that feeling once in a while. 

Upon entering the building, the first thing that grabbed Thomas' attention was the generic techno music that always played here every time the brunet came here with his friends, which no one seemed to care about as long as it was something they could dance to on the dance floor in the centre of the open concept room. 

Minho was the first one to make a move when they stepped through the door. Weaving his way through the crowds of people and successfully finding a spot at the overcrowded bar on the outskirts of the dance floor. Thomas and Teresa looked at each other, exchanging a look of "here he goes again" before proceeding to follow in their friend's footsteps. 

Once they reached the bar, Minho smiled as he each of them a cup.

"What is that?" Teresa asked, eyeing the liquid suspiciously. She took the cup from Minho's hands and brought it to her nose to inspect, coughing after she did so. Thomas took his own cup from the his friend and looked at it, its crimson colour staring back at him. 

"Don't worry about it." Minho says, now holding his own cup of the same liquid. Thomas brings the cup to his nose and inhales. It doesn't even have a scent and directly burns his nostrils. He has second doubts about this. 

Minho raises his cup. "Here's to our lovely friend Thomas, who's been workin' so hard recently!" 

Shrugging and banishing his second doubts to the deep recesses of his mind, he raises his own cup and downs it all in one go, Minho and Teresa following suit. It wasn't bad, yet it wasn't good either. To Thomas, its flavour was indescribable. He wipes his upper lip with the sleeve of his sweater and looks at the two of them, waiting for what their next plan of action was. Minho smiled at the two of them. 

"You guys ready to party?" 

-

Hours passed by and after the first drink Minho gave him, he felt a pleasant buzz spread across his whole body. Thomas thought that he could go for another and rather than going to dance with Minho and Teresa, he stayed behind. 

He was leaning against the bar with his second cup in hand, smiling fondly at his drunken uncoordinated friends who were trying to dance to the beat of the music (and failing terribly), when a man suddenly took the empty spot beside him at the ebony counter, drink in hand.

"It's so bloody loud in here," the man says aloud. "Can barely hear myself think." Thomas' gaze shifts from watching his friends to the man right beside him. He's taken aback away the man's appearance; his short blond hair being the first thing to stand out to Thomas, and his tall, pale, and lanky complexion. But it was prominent jawline and his deep dark brown eyes that brunet thought he could get lost in if he made eye contact for too long is what sold him. Why was someone so attractive talking to him? It wasn't like he stood out or anything.. 

He nodded effortlessly to the man, his words caught like a lump in his throat. He wanted to say something, but could only gawk at the other's appearance. 

"Not much for words are ya?" He smiled at him, and in Thomas' eyes, it was brighter than all of the strobe lights that illuminated the club. 

"Actually, yeah I am. I couldn't help but stare." He said, instantly regretting it after. Cursing himself, he hoped he didn't blow his chances with the blond stranger that is, if he had any chance to begin with. 

The latter chuckled. "Like what you see?" He outstretched a hand to Thomas. "The name's Newt by the way." 

Thomas looked at the outstretched hand and grasped it firmly. "Thomas," he replied. "So, what brings you here tonight?" 

"Just thought I would come and see who I could pick up." His eyes scan Thomas up and down, the ends of his mouth upturning slightly. "I seem to be in bloody luck today. What about you, Tommy?" 

Thomas slightly cringes at the use of the nickname. He hasn't heard that name since he was kicked out of his parents' house, but the way the blond said it combined with his British accent somehow still gave it its familiarity, but own uniqueness. It made him feel like he was an old friend and liked the way it rolled off the latter's tongue. 

He took a sip at the crimson liquid in his cup, his lips and throat felt dry. "My friends took me here to celebrate working two months at the coffee shop that isn't too far from here." What he told the blond wasn't necessarily a lie, but wasn't exactly the entire truth either. He was sworn to secrecy, but he also technically had a job at the coffee shop close to the Safe Haven. Not entirely for making and serving caffeinated beverages, but he did do that during his shift. 

Newt hummed at that response. "Well, congratulations. You must be somethin' if they're willing to take you out over two months of work." 

"If only you knew, I make a great coffee." Thomas joked and Newt laughed. His laugh sounded sweet in Thomas' ears, like it was from an angel itself. There isn't anything else that would make the blond more perfect than he was to Thomas right now. 

"I'd love to find out." The brunet felt his cheeks heat up. He's never had any luck flirting with someone before and he's surprised it's going so well (at least in his books). He'd have to thank Minho later for whatever he gave him. It surely made him loosen up and relax, being able to have such a steady conversation with someone as striking as the man in front of him definitely had something to do with it. 

"Well, if you happen to drop by on one of my shifts, you definitely will. On the house." He smiled at Newt, a look of gratitude washing over the blond's facial features. 

"Thanks, I think I'll take you up on that offer soon enough." He turned away from the brunet and looked at the dance floor, downing the rest of his drink in the process. "Say Tommy, let's have some fun." 

Taking his own cup and downing the rest of his liquid courage, Thomas set it on the counter and followed Newt towards the over populated dance floor where his two best friends were.

He officially declared this night the best night he’s ever had in his entire life so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it still called hot chocolate if it's cold? Ah, anyways thank you so much for reading!! I'll try and update real soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking about Newt

Thomas wakes up with a feeling between pleasantly refreshed and horribly tired. Although he kept to his word and didn't drink himself to the verge of death, he ended up leaving the Safe Haven half past 4am the morning, and not from the friend who promised to bring him back home at 12am. Minho jokes around about most things, but he takes driving safely seriously. So, instead of risking their lives driving intoxicated, Newt offered to give them a ride home. Since the blond admitted to only having one drink that night- it being water. 

For the rest of the night, he spent every minute by Newt’s side. Thomas wasn't sure how much time he had left with him or whether he would ever see him again, but he decided to make every moment count. He wanted to make him laugh as much as possible, and somehow, he managed to succeed by just being himself. Though, being called a dork by Newt didn't sit quite right with Thomas (as he believed the blond to be a dork for talking to someone like him), he would allow himself to be called one any day just to see his lovely smile. The smile that was so contagious to Thomas that he couldn't help but crack one himself. Every time he saw that beautiful smile appear on his face, he felt his heart swell and a warm feeling wash over his entire body, he wanted the night to last forever.

Once crowds started to dwindle at the sign of the early morning sun, Newt helped lift his friends into his car and drove them back to Thomas' apartment, all of them crashing on and around Thomas’ couch upon arrival. 

He sits up and cracks his neck, attempting to rid himself from the painful kink he feels from sleeping on the cold, hard floor. Noticing a heavy weight sitting at the bottom of his legs, he looks down to see Minho, the man softly snoring with every breath. He gently wriggles himself out from underneath the Asian, not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber and tiptoes carefully over to the kitchen. Rather than waking his two friends up, he opened his fridge and took out the remaining eggs and bacon he had. Thomas prided himself on being able to make delicious scrambled eggs and crispy bacon, hoping that this would be enough of a peace offering to the the girl sleeping on his couch and the boy lying on the floor beside it. His two friends were practically beasts to the brunet when they were hungover and sleeping, one wrong move and the both of them would yell at him in unison, then shun him for the entire day in their irrational, grumpy wake. 

As smell of bacon wafted through the air, the first person he heard stir was Minho, who grunted as he stretched his body from his uncomfortable slumber on Thomas’ floor. He stood up, and made his way to the dining table. Walking as if he were a zombie, he slumped in one of the chairs. 

“Morning to you too.” Thomas greeted him as he placed the final plate on the table for himself, taking a seat across from Minho and digging in. Minho grunts in response as he holds his head in his hands groaning at his nasty hangover.  
“Water…” Minho says, his voice raspy with sleep. He lazily picks up the fork beside his plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and recklessly stabs it, catching some of the eggs in their prongs. Thomas nods once in understanding and after taking one last bite of his own food, gets up to fulfil his friend’s request. He opens the cupboard and grabs two cups; filling up the solid green cup he knows Minho loves, and the solid blue one for Teresa. He puts both cups on the table and returns back into the kitchen to rummage through the cupboard underneath his kitchen sink, searching for the aspirin he frequently keeps underneath there for times like these. 

Returning to his seat, Teresa was the last one to wake up. She uncurled herself from her fetal position on his red cushioned couch and yawned, stretching contently at her undisturbed and somewhat comfortable sleep. She sat down at the table, popping one of the aspirin pills in her mouth before taking a swig of water to wash it down, then grabbing the fork to dig into the meal set out in front of her. 

“Thanks, Tom.” She says as she takes her first bite. “Didn’t you say you had class today?” 

“Yeah, but I’ll just skip it today. I got two big hungover babies I have to take care of.” He teases and Teresa rolls her eyes at him. 

“We might be hungover, but at least we weren’t getting comfy with someone at the bar last night.” She retaliates. Thomas almost chokes on the piece of bacon he was munching on. He instantly felt his cheeks heat up at Teresa’s mention of the blond. “Who was that last night, Tom?” 

Thomas thickly swallowed. He didn’t want to tell her who he was because he knew he would be teased for it, but he trusted Teresa and they told each other everything. “... He was just someone I met at the bar, that’s all.” He responded hesitantly. 

“Yeah right, someone you clung to the entire night,” Minho interrupted with food in his mouth. Thomas cringed at the sight of it. “I do gotta say bro, you have good taste. Plus, he was nice enough to drive us back to your place,” He nods once, wincing at the pain that it brought his head. “You have my blessing.” 

Thomas rolls his eyes at the Asian, but appreciated the underlying support in his words. “Thanks, though it’s not as if we’re getting married, or even dating" He said, mumbling the last part. Minho chuckled. 

"Hey man, you never know. 'Sides, you haven't dated in ages,” His gaze shifts over to the girl sitting beside him. “It's about time you found someone new." Minho had a point. It's been months since Thomas had dated anyone. He thought Teresa and him had a stable relationship that would last, but later realized that they misunderstood their strong siblingly love for each other as a romantic love. Now, they were back to being good, best friends and were happy with how things are between them. Teresa crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, silent as she thought. 

“What’s wrong Teresa? Still got feelings for this shank?” Minho teases and Teresa shakes her head in denial. 

“No, it’s not that. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve seen that guy somewhere before.” She furrows her eyebrows as she attempts to reach for the memory stored somewhere in her mind, clicking her tongue in frustration when it’s at the tip of her tongue and vanishes into thin air once again. 

“Small world?” Thomas suggests, hoping that that would be the answer and leave the conversation at that. He wanted to drop the subject completely. For some reason, it struck a chord of uneasiness in Thomas over the fact that she’s seen him before, not wanting to find out why. Much to the brunet's distress, she shakes her head again. 

"Nope," she says. "I would be careful Tom, these days, you don't know what you're gonna get into." She takes the final bite of her breakfast and gets up to put away her plate in the kitchen sink, upon the piles that lay there already. "

"Anyways, I have to go back to my apartment to change or I'll be late for my class," she puts on her shoes and opens the door. "Talk to you guys later." With that, she exits Thomas' apartment, leaving him with Minho. 

"Well dude, you got a lot going on, so I'm just gonna head back to sleep." Minho gets up from his seat, clapping Thomas on the back as he passes him and goes back over to the living room, lying where Teresa once laid moments ago. He sighs contently as his head hits the much more comfortable surface, drifting off into another deep sleep. 

Thomas sighs. That was the most excruciating conversation he's had to sit through ever. He knows he shouldn't trust Newt quite yet and he barely knows him, but there's no way in hell he could be a bad guy, especially if he was so willing to drive them home when his friends were wasted. He takes up Minho's and his own plate, placing them in the sink before going to shower and spend the next few hours until his shift, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd! I'm trying my best to update whenever I can ;;; Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

Thomas never wanted to play Mario Kart ever again. After spending almost an hour and a half playing the game by himself, he turned off his gaming console and swore to himself that he'll never let Minho best him in the game ever again. He declared himself the best at Mario Kart as he got ready for work, leaving Minho to laze around his apartment hoping he remembers to lock the door after he leaves. 

-

The coffee shop, Homestead, wasn't far away from his apartment complex, which was convenient and gave Thomas time to himself to watch the never changing scenery around him. It calmed him to see something so certain; the regular hustle and bustle of people getting to work or school, the chatter from people talking on their phones, the loud noises from the oncoming traffic, it routinely steadied Thomas and allowed him to suspect anything to happen within the day, if not hour. He never knew if this day or the next would be his last, so he relished every moment of each one. The walk was cold and frigid, but it was exactly what Thomas needed to feel wide awake, sapping away any fatigue he felt. He looked up at the sky and saw the first signs of winter, the snow landing gracefully on everything it touched. 

Upon entering the cafe, making it with five minutes to spare before his shift started, he was hit with the familiar smell of their classic brew. It was a quaint, cozy joint that felt like another home to Thomas. The warm, light brown shades that painted the wall and various paintings lining them; some unusual such as the clown painting Chuck brought in one day that the owner liked, or the scenic ones like the one Teresa brought back from her family vacation (Thomas couldn't remember where they went) of a beautiful mountain landscape. Small fixtures and plants aligned the shelves and the seats were a deep chocolate brown that Thomas believed they tied together the whole room through their darker contrast. It all set a welcoming atmosphere, and Thomas tried his best to make it a comfortable space for those who came in, just as the name entails. 

He went to the back room and greeted Chuck upon arrival, who greeted him back with an abundance of energy and a smile. Chuck was one of Thomas' good friends and an intern at the Glade. He was one of younger trainees, which meant he wasn't sent out on missions, but dealt with the organization of top secret and very important files. Once donning the green apron that served as his work uniform, he stood in front of the till, waiting for customers to roll in, hoping a certain one in particular would keep to his word. 

-

The rest his shift went by as slowly as he expected it to be. It went even slower because Thomas couldn't help but glance at the door ever so often to see if the blond would ever show up. Besides that, the day was going relatively well to him. 

His head jerked to the sound of the chime above the door ring as another customer walked in. Thomas' heart rate started to pick up, hoping it was the man he was waiting for, but was let down by the man he saw instead. The man was dressed in a dark grey trench coat and a fedora that cascaded over his eyes, obstructing Thomas' view of his face. He walked up to the till to order something, without ever making eye contact with the brunet across from him.

"Good afternoon, what could I get for you?" Thomas couldn't deny that he was a bit intimated by his stature, but swallowed his fear and carried out his job.

"I'll have..." the man paused, taking a moment to decide. "I'll have an hazelnut macchiato with two-percent milk and none of that syrup stuff on top." 

 

Thomas instantly caught on to the phrase their informants used. He smiled as he took out a slip of paper from his apron pocket and a pen, clicking it once without breaking his gaze away from the stranger. 

"I'm sorry, we're sold out for the day, but I can redirect you to one of our other branches that do." Making sure to print instead of writing in his usually sloppy manner like how he takes notes in class, Thomas carefully writes the address of their hidden meet up spot in a supposed abandoned building with a timestamp of 9pm, half an hour after his shift ends. He slides him the paper across the marbled desk between them, his unwavering smile making his cheeks hurt. 

The man nods and tips his hat. "Thanks." He mutters. He leaves just as fast as he comes in, looking both ways, as if he weren't suspicious enough, before proceeding the opposite direction of the building. 

Thomas returns his expression back to his regular resting face and pulls out his cellphone, sending a quick text before he slides it back into his pocket in the nick of time just as he hears the bell above the door once more, the artificial smile returning to his face once again. 

-

Thomas' shift finished with disappointment. Newt didn't come, though Thomas didn't blame him, he wasn't exactly specific about which coffee shop he worked for and for all he knew, there could have been millions on this street itself.

He hung up his apron and slung his coat around him. He just wanted to go home and catch up on the sleep he missed the night before, but his day wasn't finished yet. He said farewell to his coworkers, and made his down the street to the meet up, the cold winter gust swallowing him whole. 

-

Thomas arrived first, leaning on the wall against the door waiting for the strange man. He looked both ways at the passing strangers, but there were no signs of him at all. Thomas was worried, did he read the guy wrong this whole time? What if he never shows up? 

As thoughts of doubt continue to cloud his mind, a burst of light shines through them as he sees the trench coated man approach him from the corner of his eye, stopping right in front of him as Thomas continues to look down at a particularly interesting spot on the sidewalk. 

"Are we going to go inside or what?" The man's familiar voice was the final blow to his doubtful thoughts, instantly banishing them away and making him feel guilty for ever having them in the first place. It was him. 

Thomas looks up at him and nods, pulling the keys out of his coat pocket and unlocking the door. He allows the man to go in first, holding the door open for him as a sign of politeness, then following behind him afterwards. 

He flicked on the lights and allowed them to illuminate the entire room. It's been a while since Thomas has been in here. The musty smell of is the first thing to hit his nose from the inactivity this place sees. He rarely meets clients and informants because of his busy schedule, but gets sent on missions for many of them despite never meeting them. Plus, this wasn't the only rendezvous spot in their network. It was out of the way, and many of his acquaintances didn't want to make the trek to hold a measly meeting. Luckily for Thomas, it was close to him. 

"After you." Thomas held his hand out in a gentleman fashion to the two seats in the middle of the room, a table placed in between them. The man nodded and took a seat at the table, crossing one leg over the other. Thomas sat down in the seat, taking out a note pad and pen, unnerved at the intimidating atmosphere the man emanated across from him, the only visible part of his face was his chin. 

"Am I scaring you?" The man said to him. Thomas shook his head. 

"Not at all sir," Thomas lied. "So, what are you here to talk about today?" 

The man across from him takes off his hat, which breathes a sigh of relief into Thomas that he didn't even know he was holding. He didn’t seem so intimidating anymore, but looked almost crazed, as if he were hanging onto the edge of sanity. His eyes glowed with underlying insanity as he glanced around the room before steadying his gaze on the brunet. He reached into his trench coat pockets holding up three photos in the gaps between his fingers before sliding over to Thomas across the hard surface of the table. He pressed his hand on them to stop them from falling off the table and looked at them. It was the same woman who was with Janson the night Thomas assassinated him. Thomas looked up at the man, confused as to what he was supposed to be looking at. 

“Wicked,” The man said. “They’re on the move again.” He leaned over and pointed at the photo to the left. It was a photo of her entering a building Thomas recognized, but couldn't place a finger on its name. 

“Who is she?” Thomas asked. He didn’t even know she was. 

“Ava Paige, CEO of Wicked. A nasty one she is.” He said with a dry chuckle. "And look at the hospital she's going into." 

Something clicked in Thomas' mind and the gears finally started to churn. It was the general hospital that wasn't too far from here. But why would she need to go there? The man points to the photo beside it, the one in the middle of the three. 

"Dr. James Miller, one of the the most well respected neurologists out there." Thomas took a close glimpse at his face. His jet black hair with a small fringe parted to one side, his pale skin, rounded face, and snide smirk that made him look almost punchable was seared into Thomas' mind. He wrote the name down on the notepad for future reference, listening intently to every word the man said. 

"We don't have the details, but my buddies tell me that what they're doing isn't gonna be good. Which is where you guys come in." 

Thomas crosses one leg over the other, leaning back into his chair, put at ease as he listens to the informant speak. "What do you want us to do about it?" 

The man grins, the menacing grin stretching across his face, instilling fear into Thomas once again. "I want you to kill him, hermano. It's as simple as that. And I want all of the files he has on Wicked's plans." 

Thomas nods in agreeance. He wants to do what's best for the organization and what Wicked is up to. Curiosity ruled over rationality. And he would take someone's life any day to sate this unquenchable hunger to find out what's going on. 

"How much are you paying?" Thomas asked. 

"That's not something you and I have to discuss. Your boss and I will talk about prices, but let me tell you," His smile as menacing as possible. "It'll be a generous amount for the hell you'll be going through."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Unbeta'd) Sorry, I'm not exactly including the "newt" in "newtmas" so far otl... This is technically the first fic I have actually tried to write and commit to.. I'll try and update sooner!! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> P.s I'm not that creative and I really wish I could think of another code word thingy BUT !! Yea.. also if you ever want to talk newtmas to someone.. you can follow me on twitter @nijiirorhyme!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter, Alby! (Though only for a bit aha)

Thomas swallowed hard, trying to process the words the man across from him had just said. He was skeptical. Was killing one man going to be that hard? 

"You can't be serious, right?" Thomas said, trying to conceal the concern rising in his voice. He couldn't help but worry. The people who were going on the mission weren’t set in stone. It could be one of his friends, and he’d rather put himself in danger than the ones he cares about.

The man leans forward on the desk with his arms, hands interlocking with each other. "Why wouldn't I be? What we're discussing is a serious matter, is it not?" 

The brunet hesitated. He could hear the irritation rising in the man's voice and from the menacing smile he showed him earlier, Thomas didn't want to make him mad. He knew his boundaries and when they shouldn't be crossed. "It is, but what makes him so hard to kill?" 

He points at the picture on the very far right, the last photo. It's a photo of a boy who looks to be the same age as Thomas, his smile almost as bright as Newt's. "He was the last boy your agency sent out to assassinate him. Disembodied him and sent him back in pieces. All but his head. Poor Ben, kid had potential." 

A chill went through Thomas' spine as he said that. He didn’t know the boy, but he felt sorry for him. He didn't want to imagine the innocent boy in the photo stained with blood and sent back to the Glade in pieces. Ben probably had a life just like Thomas and nothing could bring him back from the horrible fate he had to suffer because of Wicked. If he has a family, they would never see him again. He wouldn't be able to grow up to his full potential and achieve what he wanted to do. It was all washed down the drain because of them. He felt sick to his stomach as it churned with disgust, worry, and anger.

The man across from him stood up and paced around the room. "We have no idea what they did to him in there, but he didn't just come back in pieces." He rolled up one of his trench coat sleeves and pointed at the veins on his forearm, as if Thomas needed a reference to be able to visualize what he was about to say next. "His veins were bulging out, all of them of them a blue colour no human’s veins should be. Body parts charred so bad, they had a hard time even figuring out who he was." 

Thomas' hands were clammy. He wiped them on his pant legs and tried to grasp at the words swimming around in his mind to make some sort of response, but he lost all train of thought when he hears the door open from behind him. He cranes his head around to see who it is and exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. It was Alby. 

"You texted me for somethin’? What do you take me for, Greenie?" Alby bluntly said, not even offering a semblance of a greeting. It wasn't really his style to anyways, so Thomas didn't feel insulted at all. 

"He wants us to kill someone for him." 

"No hermano, not just for me, but you guys'll benefit from this too. I take it this is your boss?" He walks up to Alby and outstretches a hand. "Jorge." 

Alby takes the hand and shakes it firmly, scoffing at Jorge. "I know who you are already. This ain't the first time we've done business with you." He releases his hand and looks at Thomas. "So tell me, why am I here and not at HQ finishing some paperwork?" 

-

Thomas explains the whole situation to Alby, his demeanour changing into one of seriousness than his normal, abrasive nature. Thomas admired his ability to switch gears so quickly, which gave him no doubt in his mind that Alby was fit for his role as the leader of the Glade. 

Alby leans back in his chair and sighs. "This is why I never want to do business with you Jorge. First Ben, now you want us to try this klunk again?" 

Jorge comes to a stop from pacing around the room another lap. "This time, it'll be different.” He walks over to Thomas and claps a hand on his shoulder. "Thomas right here has what it takes." Thomas was slightly shocked. It was the first time Jorge had ever said his name, but it wasn’t too much of a surprise since he was an informant with connections all over the city. 

"No way," Alby crosses his arms and shakes his head. "I'm not sendin' him out on a mission this dangerous already." 

"Why?" Thomas asked. He wanted to be the one to go on the mission. "I'm perfectly–” 

"It wouldn't make sense to send a greenie like you on a mission like this. No way." Alby cuts him off, a underlying tone of harshness rising in his voice. "We'll send Teresa or Winston." 

Thomas felt his face contort with frustration. He wasn't going to take no as an answer. 

"I'm capable of doing this myself–”

"No!" Alby abruptly gets up from the desk, angrily slamming his hands on the surface. "You are not going on this mission and that's final." 

Thomas stood up too and stared at him with unwavering fearlessness and anger. Alby wasn't seeing his poin and he wasn't going to back down. 

"If you don't mind me interrupting," Jorge clears his throat before continuing. "He's your best bet. He's already had twice as many kills as your best and succeeded without as much as a scratch. I want him to do it." 

Alby sat back down, thinking. After what felt like ages to Thomas, he grumbled and nodded. 

"Fine, alright. I'll send you and Teresa, but if you fail," Alby's voice dropped a tone as he stared directly in Thomas’ eyes with an intensity that raised the hairs on the back of Thomas' neck. "You know what happens." 

Thomas nodded, he was well aware what would happen to him if he failed. If he wasn’t killed on the mission, the Glade would kill him themselves because he knew too much. If he ran from them, they would chase him down until he relented. If that was the case, so be it. Nothing Thomas could do would make up for the hospitality the Glade has shown him. 

Alby got up from his chair and stuffed a hand in his coat pocket as grabbed the door by the handle before swinging it open. 

"You deal with the rest of this. I gotta go back and finish up." Without even saying a goodbye, Alby walks through the door, a gust of chilly air from outside hitting Thomas' face as the door clicked shut. Jorge turns back to Thomas, who was also watching the young man leave. 

"So, shall we get back to business?" 

-

Twenty-thousand dollars. Jorge was offering Thomas twenty-thousand dollars to kill him within the limit of two weeks. He briskly walked back to his apartment building after concluding his meeting with Jorge and opened the door to a Minho-less flat (who was most likely picking up his car from last night). Throwing his keys onto the coffee table in the middle of the living room, he walked over to the bookshelf in the very corner of his living room. A metallic square patch beside it showing a warped, reflection of his face back at him. He pressed his thumb against the dark oval in the middle of it and it rung with an optimistic bing. The bookshelf slid into a notch in the side of the wall, revealing an elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the button for the lowest floor possible. The doors slid shut and after a short moment listening to the jazzy elevator music, the doors opened to a wide, spacious room with a desk and a laptop. Papers were scattered everywhere, covering every square inch of the table. Thomas' eyes widened in disbelief at how much of a slob his friend Minho was. He rolled his eyes as if the Asian could see him as he sifted through them to organize them into neat piles. 

The apartment complex that Thomas lives in is an affiliate of the Glade, and every group happened to have one of these rooms underneath the building. They served as research rooms for missions where they could work in a safe and secure environment. Thomas loved the place. While it was bland and lacking a splash of colour, it was quiet and he couldn't deny it, despite the room being for work purposes only, it gave him a place to relax and take a load off when things were getting stressful. 

He pulled out the chair, and sat down in it, spinning around in it a couple of times before settling his hand on the mouse. Even though he had two weeks to carry out his mission, Thomas wasn't one to procrastinate. Researching the man for any information online was a better start than not starting at all. 

-

The brunet was tired. He's spent the past week staying up into the late night hatching up a plan with Teresa and Minho on how to successfully infiltrate Miller's base of operations. It was a strenuous task, but they finally created a full proof plan that would get them into- and out of his base smoothly if everyone did their part properly. While Thomas didn't know the boy they sent before him, he swore to himself that he would avenge him. 

Yawning as he poured another cup of coffee into a mug for a customer that was staying to enjoy it, he heard the chime above the door ring once again. He turned his head to the sound of it and with no expectations in his mind whatsoever, he saw the familiar blond with that same smile plastered on his face. 

 

“Is that offer still on the table?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I'm a little slow at updating! School's been a little busy and I'm getting over a cold! I have a lot planned for this fic though c: As always, thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> Twitter: @nijiirorhyme


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back back back

He didn't expect this at all. If Thomas was being completely honest with himself, he almost forgot about Newt. With work being thrown at him from all different angles and the chances of him visiting looking slim, he pushed Newt to the very back of his mind, leaving himself no room to think about the man at all. 

Thomas started to internally panic as Newt began to walk over to the counter. He had about three seconds to mentally prepare himself for an encounter with the man he almost thought he would never see again. His heart rate started to pick up its pace with every step he took and before he knew it, Newt was in front of him, staring deeply into his eyes. Thomas found it hard to breathe, as if taking a breath would shatter whatever atmosphere they had surrounding them. 

"Did you miss me, Tommy?" He asked. The words Thomas wanted to say felt like they were glued to the back of his throat. He couldn't bring himself to even utter a word as he continued to make eye contact with Newt. His eyes were a beautiful dark chocolate brown. 

"I.. Yeah, of course the offer is still on the table. After all, I was the one to offer." Thomas didn't want to address the second question Newt asked, he hoped he would settle for the reply he just gave without prying too much. But yes, of course he missed him. He wanted to see him again and get to know him better. 

Newt hummed at the response and turned his head, getting a good look around the shop in the process. "I never knew there was a coffee shop as nice as this one on this street. I've practically been to all of them and none of them looked as bloody nice as this.” 

Thomas was still nervous, he wished he had a little bit of that liquid courage right about now. "Are you a coffee person?" Thomas internally face palmed at himself. Of course he would be a coffee drinker, he just made it clear that he was a few seconds ago-

"No, I'm actually more of a tea person, but a coffee once in a while before a morning class isn't so bad." He replied. This piqued Thomas' interest, but before he could ask what he majored in, Newt continued to speak. 

"I'm running a little late so," Newt looked over Thomas' head to get a good glimpse of the menu displayed right above him on a chalkboard, each option written neatly. He returned his gaze to Thomas', “Surprise me.” 

Thomas grinned, slowly feeling the tension in his body fade as they moved onto a topic Thomas felt more confident in. Coffee making. “Got it, for here or to-go?” Thomas said, turning to get started. 

“Sorry, I can’t stay this time around, so to-go.” He sighed as he pinched his nose bridge. In the time that Thomas turned away, Newt was already seated at the bar counter. “Who thought it was a good idea to have classes in the bloody morning?” 

Thomas mentally noted to himself that Newt wasn’t a morning person as he shrugged without looking up from his task, “They’re not so bad. I don’t mind them.”

He felt Newt’s eyes on him as he worked and he paused. “You’re one weird shank, Tommy.” 

The brunet let out a chuckle. “Never said I wasn’t. What do you major in anyways?” 

“Law, what about you?” 

“Business.” 

Newt whistles. “A businessman huh,” From the corner of Thomas’ eye, he could see the blond scan him up and down. “You’d look good in a suit.” 

Thomas felt his ears warm in the embarrassment which was now spreading, making its way to his face, tinting his cheeks a rosy red. “I could say the same for you.” Thomas wasn’t too sure about whether or not he actually could, but from what he saw at the Safe Haven beneath the flashing, bright lights that made it harder to see, he was a lean and a somewhat muscular man. 

A comfortable silence surrounded the two as Thomas continued to make Newt’s order. He wanted to make Newt the best coffee he’s ever tasted. He wanted him come back again. The brunet hoped he would make this place his go-to cafe through his coffee, but that might not even be necessary that for him to come back a second time. From the way he looked at Thomas before, he had a feeling he would still come back nonetheless. 

He pours the freshly brewed coffee into one of their signature to-go cups and pops on the lid. 

“Here you go.” Thomas handed the drink to Newt who graciously accepted it, his fingers brushing against the brunet’s as he reached for it. It sent a warming feeling straight into the pit of Thomas’ chest, leaving a small smile on his face at the short and subtle interaction. 

Newt thanked him and blew on the surface to cool it down before bringing it to his lips to take a sip. He hummed in content. 

“That’s some good bloody coffee, Tommy. You weren’t kidding, you really do make a good cup.” 

Thomas smiled stretched wider on his face. “You thought I was kidding?” 

“No, but am I supposed to trust what someone says the first time I meet them?” He asked. 

“Point taken.” He did have a point. Thomas knew that he’d be skeptical of a man he just met as well, especially if he made such a bold statement like being able to make amazing coffee. 

“Anyways,” Newt slides off the leather bar stool to stand as he checks the time on his watch. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got a morning class to get to. Thanks.” 

Thomas felt the moisture from his mouth disappear with what he wanted to say next. “Will you come back again?” 

Newt opened the door, the chime sounding again. “Of course,” He smiled. “See you soon, Tommy.” The door closed behind him, and Thomas stood there in a daze before he was snapped out of it by a firm pat on the back. 

“I’m rooting for you, man.” Minho said, before shifting gears and greeting the next customer that walked in. Thomas looked back to the seat Newt sat in, the daze pulling him back as he reminisced about what happened only a few moments ago, when he notices a white slip of paper on top of the granite counter. He takes up the slip of paper and unravels its several folds before finally coming across a neatly written phone number in it. Thomas couldn’t believe his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAA Another chapter!! I think updates will be kinda slow from now on ;; school's kinda kicking my ass with exams and final projects so I'm a little busy! Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!   
> twitter:@nijiirorhyme

**Author's Note:**

> So.. I thought of this idea at 2am in the morning right as I was about to fall asleep... Sorry this is only the prologue (and unbeta'd for that matter), but I'll have chapter one up soon! Thank you for reading!


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